


Gentleman Jack

by melodramatic



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Blurryface (implied) - Freeform, Homophobic Slurs, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of foul language, Love and Devotion, M/M, there's fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 17:54:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10541550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melodramatic/pseuds/melodramatic
Summary: Tyler promised himself on several occasions that he would never end up like his father.Oh, he wished it were that easy.





	

The first time Tyler could remember watching his parents fight - well, he couldn't recall a specific account. He only remembered hearing his mother cry out for help on several occasions. And when Tyler ran out of his room and peeked around the kitchen corner, he saw his father grabbing his mother by the arm, beating her with a wooden spoon. Tyler watched tan skin turn to red skin turn to bleeding skin, and he was afriad.

Tyler cried out and ran to stop his father, pulling on his leg. The man kicked him off, and then walked towards him, the wooden spoon cocked. 

His mother screamed, "No! Don't! Leave him alone!"

She grabbed him by the shirt, and he spun around, letting the wooden spoon collide with her face, a dark red trail of blood creeping down her temple.

The next day, Tyler asked her why she let Daddy do that.

"I have to let him," She replied.

"That doesn't make sense."

"I know."

And in that moment Tyler promised himself he'd never end up like his father. He would never hit someone he professed to love. Because abuse was not love, and even at seven years old, he knew that.

....

In ninth grade, when Tyler was caught kissing another boy in the dugout, one of the other boys in his math class eyeballed him for the entire period. 

The boy followed him home with two of his friends, and cornered Tyler when he tried to hide himself in an alley.

"Look, guys! I found a faggot!" He said, his friends laughing at his less-than-clever insult. 

Tyler held the straps to his backpack tightly, and mentally noted that they were in a one-way alley. He'd have to pass through the group of kids to get back on the path home.

"Shut the fuck up, P.J.," Tyler spat.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Paul asked, stepping up to Tyler and shoving him hard. But he was prepared, and he braced his knees, keeping himself from falling to the floor.

"Are you gonna tell your _boyfriend_?" He asked again.

Tyler pulled his father's old pocketknife from his back pocket, and flicked it open, waving it in the air.

"I'm serious, P.J. Don't fuck with me."

The boy laughed, reaching up to snatch the pocketknife from his hands.

If only P.J. knew that Tyler had been arguing like this for years. 

Tyler pulled his arm back, so that his bully only grabbed at the air. He furrowed his eyebrows and pushed Tyler harder this time, and he fell. P.J. climbed on top of him and held his arms down, taking the pocketknife right from his hands and putting it in his own pocket. 

Tyler tried kicking up, he tried wriggling his arms out of the boy's grasp, but there was nothing he could do. He was outmatched, weight-wise. P.J. couldn't have been less than one hundred pounds more than Tyler, and that was just an advantage he seemed to have at the moment.

The bully still kept Tyler's arms pinned above his head.

"Open your mouth," He commanded. 

Tyler kept his mouth shut tight, and shook his head.

"I said open your fucking mouth, you fucking faggot!" 

Tyler shook his head again, and P.J. increased the pressure to his wrists, so that Tyler grit his teeth in pain, as his bones were being pushed against the asphalt. 

"Frankie! Get over here!" He called over his shoulder. 

"Make him open his mouth."

Frankie did as he was told, kneeling down to pry Tyler's mouth open with his hands. Tyler stomped his feet and shook his head, desperately trying to get out of a situation that was sure to take place either way. 

For a second, Tyler caught sight of P.J.'s third friend, who was simply standing there, frozen. He wasn't helping P.J. and Frankie, but he wasn't helping Tyler either. 

Frankie was around the same weight as P.J., and as one of the best althletes on the wrestling team, it didn't take him long to pry Tyler's mouth open.

P.J. opened his own mouth and hocked a loogie straight onto Tyler's tongue. 

The poor boy's eyes began to well up with tears, but he did not let them fall - he _could not_ let them fall. 

"Swallow it," P.J. commanded, "Just like you swallow cum. Fucking fag."

Tyler only let it sit on his tongue before he realized he could either let it slide down his tongue slowly or get it done right then and there. 

He chose the latter, and had to keep himself from gagging. 

The bully took his hands from Tyler's wrists and stood up, laughing as Frankie got up, as well. They high-fived each other, both with a disgusting grin on their face. 

P.J. walked back up to Tyler where he had propped himself up on his elbows, watching the boys leave. 

He went up to Tyler's face and shoved a finger at him, "That's what you get for being a fucking abomination. Stupid-ass faggot."

Tyler's breath hitched, but he said nothing back. The second the three boys dissapeared around the corner, Tyler didn't even make it to his feet before he hurled into the nearest trash can. 

The walk home seemed a lot longer than usual, and Tyler turned his headevery few seconds, just to make sure he wasn't being followed. 

When he opened the door to his house, his father was sat on the couch with a bottle of gold liquor in one hand, and a TV remote in the other. He did not greet Tyler, only looked his way for a second, before turning his attention back to the television. 

Tyler immediately hopped into the shower, scrubbing his arms and legs hard, especially the bruises that had began to form from where P.J. was pinning his weight against him.

He opened his mouth and scrubbed his tongue with the loofa pad, and when he gagged at the taste of soap, he really didn't mind very much.

Tyler went to his room to get dressed, avoiding looking at his naked body in the mirror. 

His father knocked on the door right after Tyler pulled his sweatshirt on.

"Tyler? Have you seen my pocketknife? The brown one?" He asked through the door. 

Tyler looked to the ceiling and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"No," He lied. 

His father walked away without another word. Tyler went to bed early that night, staring into the dark for hours upon hourse before he actually went to bed. There was no more urge to cry in his heart - only a fire that the rest of his body was too exhausted to identify. 

When Tyler closed his eyes, he saw red.

....

A candy-haired young boy with large brown eyes approached Tyler one day, while they were in class.

Tyler didn't know how he had never seen this boy before. He was utterly gorgeous.

He introduced himself as Josh. He had been absent the day before and wanted to know if Tyler had the notes from the previous day's lesson. 

Tyler nodded and handed the boy his notebook, and watched him copy down the notes. When the boy handed back the notebook, he put his number on the top of the page and a small winky face, telling Tyler to call him sometime. 

And Tyler did a lot more than call him.

He called him, texted him, went over to his house, and even took his virginity one special day. It had been the night of prom - they went together as an official couple, and surprisingly enough, were not harassed. 

It was a rather enjoyable night, and Tyler decided he really liked Josh.

They were making out in his bedroom one day, text books tossed aside, and homework unfinished. 

"Let's run away together," Tyler suggested randomly. 

Josh giggled from where he was beneath Tyler, "Yeah, right."

"No, I'm serious," He pulled back to look at Josh more fully, taking in his bright hair and bright eyes. 

Josh cocked an eyebrow, "Really?" He ran his hand up and down Tyler's back, where he knew the conflicted boy got tense. 

Tyler nodded, "Yeah, really. Think about it. I mean, we're about to graduate our senior year of high school, and we could get jobs to support ourselves."

Josh pursed his lips and looked to the ceiling in thought. 

"C'mon, Josh. You know I don't like it here," Tyler said, burying his face into the other boy's neck. Josh continued rubbing up and down his back, and kissed his forehead.

"I know, Ty."

"So you'll move away with me?" Tyler asked, raising his head to look at Josh with wide eyes.

Josh took the boy's face into his hands and kissed him softly, "I'll move away with you."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

They both smiled into the next gentle kiss. And even though that night called for a passionate and loving intamacy, Tyler couldn't stop himself from fucking Josh hard into the mattress, as if they were nothing more than acquaintances. 

....

The first few weeks were magical. Tyler was the perfect gentleman, and Josh was just so lucky to have a boyfriend as loving, as compassionate, and as understanding as Tyler. They kissed each other good morning, they kissed each other goodnight, and Josh held Tyler tight when he had nightmares of his past. 

It was almost too good to be true.

But that's because it was.

On the third week, Tyler came home from work in a rather poor mood, his day not having been successful in the slightest. 

He sat on the couch and put his head in his hands, taking a deep breath. He needed to calm down. He knew he was no good in a mood like this.

The spot next to him sank down, and he felt Josh's hand reach up to rest on his shoulder. 

"You okay?" He asked.

Tyler yanked his shoulder back and stood up from the couch, "I'm fine."

Josh stood up carefully, and said nothing, watching Tyler paced back and forth. There was an air in their apartment that was new. Not necessarily welcome, but new. 

Josh put his hands in his pockets, and was about to say something when Tyler snapped his attention at him.

"What, Josh?! What do you want?!" He threw his arms out to his side.

Josh shook his head, very confused, "Well, nothing, I just-"

"Just what?! Can you just leave me the fuck alone for a second?"

Josh's mouth went agape, "Tyler, what are you-" 

"Oh my _God_!" Tyler exclaimed, taking two large steps forward as Josh took two large steps back.

"Just shut up!" He shoved Josh against the wall, gripping his collar tightly. 

There was a long moment where they made eye contact, and neither one of them knew exactly what was going on. And Tyler's life flashed before his eyes: he saw his mother crying, decorated in black and blue. He saw his father angry and storming out of the house, and he saw himself, deciding that he'd never be like his father. 

Tyler's expression sobered up, but Josh's stayed confused and afraid.

Letting go of Josh's collar, Tyler stepped back. Without another word, he stepped out of the house and into the cold air.

When he came home, Josh was laying in bed alone, facing the wall. Tyler cuddled up behind him, and the body tensed.

"I'm sorry," Tyler whispered.

Josh took a deep breath, and placed his hand over Tyler's, where it cupped his stomach.

"It's okay," He said, stroking his thumb back and forth. 

Tyler bit his lip and held Josh tight as he fell asleep.

....

Josh made dinner carefully nowadays. He calculated each and every movement, deathly afraid of setting off the man he loved. 

Tyler walked into the house, a frown on his face yet again. It had been so long since Josh had seen a genuine smile, and his heart ached despite the fact that he should be aching elsewhere, where bruises still lurked. 

The man walked into the kitchen and hugged Josh from behind, planting a kiss on his shoulder, and Josh gritted his teeth in pain, as that was exactly where a fresh bruise had been made the night before. 

But Tyler noticed.

"Did that hurt?" He asked.

Josh immediately spun around, "No, no, not at all. I'm just a bit sore, it's okay. How was work?"

But Tyler could read Josh like a book.

His eyes began to tear up, and he pulled Josh into a tight hug, a few tears falling down his cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Josh," Tyler confessed.

There was a lump in Josh's throat as he swallowed.

But he repeated the same line that he has repeated a million times before, and would repeat a million times again.

"It's okay. I know you don't mean it."

Tyler shook his head, and tears began to stream down his face, "I'm so sorry," He repeated. 

Josh took a deep breath and held Tyler tightly, kissing his forehead. 

Tyler pulled back, looking Josh in the face, "You know that I love you, right?"

It was not a complicated question. Josh should've been able to answer it more quickly, and more succinctly. He hoped his pause would be a wake-up call to Tyler, but it only angered him. 

"Josh," He repeated, gripping the boy's arms tightly, "You know that I love you, right?"

Josh nodded, but he should have done so earlier. 

Tyler took a step back and shook his head, "You're lying."

"No, I'm not-"

"Don't fuck with me, Josh!" He slammed his fist on the counter, and began to pace about the kitchen.

Josh swallowed hard. He turned the oven knobs off, because just in case he wouldn't be able to get to them later, he'd at least know that the house would not be set on fire. 

"Tyler, please-"

"Don't 'Tyler, please' me, okay? I don't fucking need this." The man stormed out of the kitchen, but Josh followed him.

"Please, just listen to me. For one second?"

Tyler whipped himself around, "What?!"

"I-I spoke with a few, um, therapists in the neigborhood, and-"

"Josh!" Tyler exclaimed, shoving him again the wall, "I don't need a therapist. I'm fine. I don't need help!" 

It was fruitless, but Josh wouldn't have been able to sleep with himself if he didn't at least try, "You know you do-"

Tyler struck his fist across Josh's face, and the boy landed on the ground, clutching his cheek.

Tyler reeled his leg back and rammed his foot into Josh's stomach, then his chest, then his stomach again.

"I don't! Need! Help!" He yelled with each hit. The last thing Josh could remember from that night, was black and red dots forming before his eyes, and the echo of Tyler's words bouncing around his head. 

....

It was a Thursday that Tyler came home to a half-empty apartment. There was nothing for him to question, he knew the second that he entered what had happened. 

He had gotten exactly what he deserved. 

There was a small, folded up letter on the coffee table, and Tyler picked it up with shaky hands, his breath hitching at the familiar handwriting. 

_Tyler,_

_This is all for your own good, I promise. You need time for yourself, to get some help. But don't think this was done out of hate - the only reason I had the gall to leave was because I love you so much, Tyler, and I want to see you get better. I know that I can't help you myself, so I attached the business cards to a few, affordable, therapists to the letter. Please, please, please, get better for me. I've never doubted your ability to be strong for a second, and I have complete faith that you will do your best, and I know that you'll find me again once you've done so. I love you, Tyler._

_Yours truly,_

_Josh_

And Tyler was sure that tears had never fallen faster from his eyes than they did when he held the letter tightly in his fist and sat on the couch, his breathing becoming only less and less steady by the second.

That night, he did not sleep at all.

....

The therapist's office was too bright and it smelled like cough syrup. But when he sat on a velvety green couch in front of a friendly, petite woman, he knew he was one step closer to seeing Josh again.

....

The days were lonely, and the nights were lonlier. Tyler was trying so hard - he really was. He even practiced conversation with himself in the mirror, pretending that the other side was the man he still loved so dearly.

....

It had been six months when Tyler realized he was no longer going to therapy just for Josh, but also himself. He had never seen so clearly in his whole life.

....

563 days had passed before Tyler even made an attempt to contact the man he lost so long ago. He went back to their hometown, and asked Josh's parents, who were surprised to see the boy again.

They questioned him thoroughly, and reluctantly gave him Josh's new phone number.

The line rang three times.

"Hello?" A familiar voice answered. 

Tyler put a hand over his mouth, and he couldn't stop himself from choking on his own breath. 

"Hello?" The voice asked again. Tyler was so choked up, he couldn't even speak. 

"Josh," He finally said.

The line went silent for a long second, and Tyler took the phone from his ear just to make sure he hadn't hung up.

"Tyler?"

Tyler nodded, even though he couldn't see him, "Yeah, it's me. It's Tyler."

"Oh my God. Um - wow, how are you?"

"I'm good, Josh. I'm really good. I've gotten a lot better. How are you?"

"I'm not too bad either. How did you get my number?" Josh asked. 

Tyler's neck went red, "I, uh, kinda had to beg your parents for it."

Josh chuckled, "So you're back in Ohio, then?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Would you like to get some coffee with me?" He asked, and Tyler thought for sure he had never heard a better question.

"I'd love to."

They set a time and date, and Tyler felt rather refreshed. He felt like his purpose in life had been revitalized. The sun shined so brightly that day, and it mirrored Tyler's energy rather perfectly. 

When they met up for coffee, Josh looked exactly the same, and he spoke exactly the same. Except there was a little more life in his tone, and even his hair dye appeared to be of better quality. 

They sat at a table in the corner and talked for hours and hours on end - Tyler realted that he had went out to seek some kind of help the day after Josh left him that letter. Josh was intruiged and asked him so many questions, but it was okay.

Things were looking okay.

When they parted ways that evening, Josh promised to give Tyler a call. They did not kiss, but they did hug, which Tyler was rather pleased with. For the first time in a very long time, Tyler felt like his therapy wasn't all for nothing. 

....

Josh stated clearly from the get-go that he just wanted to be friends. He was single, yes, but that did not mean he was looking for a relationship. 

Tyler understood completely. He did not want to rush Josh in any way. 

He even tried to stifle his thoughts of kissing him, or making actual love to him again - he desperately wanted to respect Josh's decision.

Either way, he stopped by Josh's work on his lunch break, and they'd talk about everything and anything, and sometimes Tyler's tears were of laughter, but sometimes they were of sorrow. Regardless of the source, Josh wiped the tear streaks from his cheeks. 

And they continued like this for quite some time. 

After five months of pure platonic friendship, Josh invited Tyler over to his house for dinner. 

It was nice. Josh laid candles out, he cooked one of Tyler's favorite meals, and they ate in peace and in subtle love. 

Tyler offered to clear and wash the plates, and Josh hardly tried to stop him. He sat himself up on the counter, and continued their conversation, watching Tyler load the dishes into his dishwasher. 

"C'mere," Josh said, right as Tyler dried his hands on a paper towel. Tyler walked slowly towards him, placing himself inbetween Josh's legs where they were spread rather wide. 

Josh kept his hands at the edge of the counter and he leaned his face down, so that their breaths hit each other's faces. 

"I missed you a lot," Josh confessed. 

Tyler's eyes shot up, "You did?"

Josh nodded, "I'm so glad you got better. I knew you'd come back."

Tyler aimed his gaze down at the middle of Josh's stomach, "I still feel horrible. I treated you so bad, Josh."

"Yeah, you did," He lifted Tyler's chin with a hand so that they were eye-to-eye, "But that's all in the past, right?"

Tyler nodded, "Yes, absolutely."

There was a silence as the both of them stared at each other for a long minute. 

"Can I kiss you, Tyler?" 

"Oh God, yes."

When their lips met, it was nothing like the first time. Because this time, they were adults, they knew what they wanted and they knew who they were. 

And, yes, Josh still had trauma in his bones that would shake him up every now and then, but Tyler was always there to comfort him, even when he didn't ask for it. 

It wasn't perfect, but it was beautiful, and that was all they could really ask for.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments, questions and concerns are appreciated as always.  
> My tumblr is ClinicallyForgotten
> 
> Stay alive, friends


End file.
